


Tell Me I'm Pretty

by AnotherAnon0



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, Homophobic Language, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, SUPER RAREPAIR EXTRAVAGANZA, Sexuality Crisis, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAnon0/pseuds/AnotherAnon0
Summary: Sergei has particular demands of Morpheus.Inspired loosely by Morpheus‘s t+G-Virus transformation in Dead Aim.[Please heed tags]
Relationships: Morpheus D. Duvall/Sergei Vladimir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Tell Me I'm Pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pistolrush](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolrush/gifts).



"Tell me I'm pretty."

Morpheus cocked his head to the side, unblinking eyes dancing over his reflection in the long, standing mirror. His hands smoothed over the soft, silky material of his night-dress, delighting at how it folded and waved beneath his touch, picking up on the orange radiance emanating from the candles sporadically set around the darkened room. It practically glowed.

"You don't need to tell me to tell you." Sergei's was smiling, Morpheus could tell just from how his accent stretched around the words, "You are."

The younger man suppressed a smile, eyes following the lace detail which curved along his waistline, letting a suggestion of his pale skin peek through. 

"I know you like red." He said softly, pouting slightly and fishing for another compliment, "I think I would have looked better in black."

" _Nyet_." The Colonel chuckled, "You are beautiful in red."

Satisfied, Morpheus released the smile he'd been holding back, raising his hands and fixing his hair over his shoulders. The long, silver strands tickled his collarbone as they danced and swayed through his fingers. He adjusted the locks incessantly, side-eyeing his own reflection as he decided on a good way to part it, one that hid the harsh contour of his jawline. Slowly, he turned, rubbing his painted lips together, blackened eyelashes fluttering seductively.

Sergei was sitting on the bed, using his thigh as a table for the almost-empty crystal glass he was keeping from falling with a few delicate fingers. He had a pastel smile on his scarred face, blue eyes twinkling contentedly in the candlelight. Slowly, Morpheus sauntered up to him, plucking the glass from his hand and setting it on the side table like a dutiful maid. 

Almost immediately, he felt the sensation of a palm rubbing his side, stroking the fabric gently. 

"You smell lovely." Sergei mewed happily, taking in the scent wafting from the silken material. 

"The Chanel you gave me for Christmas." The younger man peeped in response, trying not to sound smug but failing. Morpheus let Sergei gently pull him closer, manipulated by his strong fingers like a rag doll. A little tug invited him onto the Colonel's lap.

"Such a pretty girl." Sergei purred, "I am lucky."

~

Morpheus was anxious. 

He wondered if anyone could see through his carefully constructed costume of femininity. 

Sergei didn't seem worried, and that was reassuring. He knew the Colonel never would have taken him out had he thought anyone would be able to identify him as a man, especially to such an expensive restaurant so close to headquarters. 

_The_ Colonel Sergei Vladimir wasn't a _faggot_ , after all. Or so he constantly insisted in contempt.

Sighing, Morpheus took one last look at himself in the gold-banded restroom mirror, deciding to reapply a coat of lipstick before rejoining Sergei in the dining hall. 

A pretty, deep red. Sergei had bought it for him. It matched his dress. Sergei had also bought that for him -- a lovely, form-fitting thing that forced him to wear uncomfortably tight underwear to hide his male organ.

Rubbing his lips together, he replaced the black tube in his purse, adjusting his loosely coiled silver locks over his shoulders before carefully trotting out of the washroom. He was still shaky in heels. 

Sergei was looking over the menu when he returned to him, a glass of champagne dangling from his fingers casually as he took tepid sips, reviewing the courses for the evening. His unscarred eye lit up in that way it always did when he noticed him. It made Morpheus' heart flutter. 

It made everything worth it. 

"You are a vision." Sergei sighed contently, taking the bottle of Dom Perignon from the off-table stand and carefully pouring another glass full.

"Oh shush." Morpheus mewed, accepting the flute as gracefully as he was able to, "Did you order?"

Almost on cue, a black-vested waiter shuffled up to the table, hands crossed behind his back delicately as he leaned into the table slightly.

"What can I get for you, Sir?" He asked softly, listening intently and nodding attentively as Sergei listed off his order, one that included a rather large bottle of vodka. 

"And what will Mrs. Vladimirova be having?" The waiter asked politely, though not directing the question at him and instead looking to Sergei for guidance. 

"She'll have the lamb." Sergei said softly, passing the leather-bound menu to the young man before he ushered himself off in busy compliance. 

~

Morpheus rocked his hips into the sensation of pressing hardness, a playful, coy smile pulling at his stained lips. Carefully, he began to hike up the hem of the night-dress, lifting himself slightly to pull it up over his hips. His head lulled back as he felt Sergei's firmness rub against him through the fabric of the other man's pants, an increasing warmth radiating into him. 

When the dress slipped over his own arousal, he felt Sergei's hands stop rubbing abruptly. Suddenly, gentle fingers were playing along his wrist, tugging the fabric away from him.

" _Nyet, nyet_." Sergei murmured softly, pulling the hem back down to cover the exposed erection, "Don't show that, _milaya_."

Morpheus felt a small bit of lead swelling at the back of his mouth. It tasted bitter.

"Still?" He blurted, "Why n--"

"Girls don't have those things." Sergei mewed, bringing his finger up to stroke at Morpheus' quivering cheek gently, "I'm not interested in those things, you know that."

"Bu--"

"I am **_not_** interested in those things." The assertion was firmer this time, Sergei's expression immediately changing, jaw clenching and the twinkle dropping from his unscarred eye. Morpheus swallowed, sighing quietly and issuing a curt, slow nod. Sergei's cheeks softened immediately, the twinkle returning as though nothing had ever happened.

"Oka-- _gahh_!" Morpheus' head lulled back as he felt fingers slip into his exposed entrance, Sergei wrapping his arm around his waist and curling his hand between his legs. 

The digits began pressing and rubbing, twisting and pushing. Shockwaves of pleasure began to shiver up Morpheus' back, hands somehow making their way to Sergei's strong shoulders to squeeze at them in a silent praise. 

"Get nice and wet for me now, _malysh_." 

~

Morpheus didn't like lamb, but he was determined to eat it anyway. 

Cutting small, delicate bites from the steak, he parted his lips just enough to slip the morsel in, chewing softly and trying not to ruin his makeup.

"Have you given anymore thought to what we discussed?"

He hiccuped on the champagne, setting the cup down carefully while trying to choke back a cough.

"No..." He cleared his throat quietly, bringing a napkin to blot at the corners of his mouth, "Not quite."

Sergei continued as though he hadn't protested.

"There's a good surgeon in Minsk. One who would be discreet about the whole thing." Sergei set his fork and knife down on the edge of his plate, folding his hands on the table, "I think it is best for us both. I'll make an appointment for you."

Morpheus felt a familiar, acrid smell clog his sinuses. Bile welled up at the back of his throat and waged war on the horrific gaminess of the lamb and mint sauce for dominance. 

"Sergei..." He tried to muster a soft, pleading smile, "I'm not ready... I-I don't even know if that's what I want..." His red lips twitched over his white teeth, the plastic expression he'd pulled together faltering as he saw Sergei's jaw set tightly, "I- I don't know if that's what I _am_."

"Nonsense." Sergei abruptly picked up his utensils again, sawing into his steak with a force that was unnecessary for the butter-soft wagyu. He sawed and sawed until the knife scraped at the porcelain of the plate loudly, but still sawed more. "Absolute nonsense. Of _course_ that's what you are."

 _Or else what are you?_ Morpheus filled in the implication silently.

~

The filthy noises of wet flesh on flesh filled the room. The candles on the bedside table were flickering for the gusts of air wisping away from the mattress, the motion of bodies causing the orange glow to grow chaotic and cast new contours on the walls. 

Morpheus struggled to keep the hem of the night-dress down, pushing it over his leaking erection with a closed fist-grasp of the fabric. Sergei had his ankles over his shoulders, strong arms straddling over his shoulders as he fucked into him roughly. He could feel Sergei's muscular thighs twitch against his hips as he thrusted, every puncture prodding deeper and deeper, pressing him into the mattress with sporadic grunts.

Sergei dipped his head down, running his tongue over the shell of Morpheus' ear. It made him shudder in delight, tiny mews of excitement tickling forth from him, lipstick smeared across his chin after repeated sloppy kisses. 

"Your pussy is so tight, _malysh_..." He whispered, "So tight."

The younger man groaned, the hot breath against his cheek coupled with the words sending a jagged lurch of arousal through his belly. He wanted desperately to touch himself, but knew Sergei would get upset like he always did. Instead, he whimpered and babbled pathetically, eyes rolling behind his fluttering lids, leaning into the tiny kisses Sergei was placing on his hazy, red cheeks.

Sergei climaxed with a loud moan, slamming his hips against Morpheus aggressively and fully sheathing himself in his body as he released. The younger man sighed in delight as he felt the familiar warmth of fullness, cum pulsating through him deeply. 

The Colonel took his lips as he withdrew, tongue interrogating every inch of the other man's mouth, prodding at the inside of his cheeks and rubbing along the other tongue which darted at it hungrily. Morpheus could feel the seed leaking out of him, soaking into the sheets below as Sergei let his legs slip from his shoulders.

Slowly, he sat up, shuffling off of the bed with shaky thighs and trembling legs. Sergei was moving to lay down beside where he had been, chest heaving slowly in satisfied exhaustion.

Morpheus would have to finish in the washroom, like he always did. Where he couldn't be seen.

"Such a pretty girl." He could hear Sergei panting as he slipped out of the bedroom, "I am so lucky."

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a slightly different take on Morpheus/Sergei. My last one was more Morpheus being a narcissistic, mentally damaged douchebag and Sergei being somewhat helpful? and loving? But this is definitely a different vein entirely. 
> 
> Morpheus's transformation in Dead Aim (the first one) was him into a very female-looking tyrant, so I was playing with that concept a bit more.
> 
> Again gifted to the lovely pistolrush because I think they are the only other Morpheus stan here lmfao


End file.
